Free at long last...

The colour of my skin,
The creed of my birth,
The place of my right,
Will, no more, my name shall be.
Free at long last will I be.

The road I walk,
The words I talk,
The skin I wear,
Will, no more, my fame shall be.
Free at long last will I be.

The halo I bow to,
The law I'm avowed to,
The roof, to live under, I build to,
Will decide, no more, what my fate will be.
Free at long last will I be.

The flaw of my design,
The preachings of my faith,
The script of scriptures,
Will determine, no more, my destiny.
Free at long last I will be.

The threads of my past,
The truths and lies of my forefathers,
The meanderings of my heritage,
Will, no more, the fabric of my life, weave.
Free at long last I will be.

The fodder of my choice,
The furnishing of my abode,
The hues of my walls,
Will, no more, the brushstrokes of my being be.
Free at long last will I be.

The land that I farm,
The forest that I scavenge,
The stock that I breed,
Will, no more, the determinant of my judgement be.
Free at long last will I be.

Dull

Tall
Windowless and dead
Towering to the cloud.

Convoluted
Imposing and endlessly stacked 
Noiseless, and yet, loud.

Spartan 
Dull and grey
Foul spotting across the land.

Hard
Dry and macabre 
Life drowned in an ocean of bland.

Noise...

The noise beats loud and painful
The screech and screams of the irrelevant
Endless cacophony of the tune deaf
No quiet, no silence, end.

The beats are always off tune
The peaks and troughs are all muddled
Continuous, horrid and unending friction
Headache, nausea, no end.

The tunes are sour, bitter and angry
The overtures riddled with history, long overwritten
All that rings through the endless cacophony
Pain, spin, vertigo, no end.